Helium Racoon
by x-flame-x
Summary: Howard and Vince set off to see a gig, but are intercepted by an old friend and find themselves lost in a strange cave.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters fromThe Mighty Boosh, I only own the original characters that do not appear in the TV show.

**Note: **This Fan-fiction was co-written with Sarah Parkinson. **Please Review **

**Chapter 1- Extra Sugary Sugar puffs**

Howard Moon sat sloppily at the kitchen table in the small flat he had shared with a mod, a gorilla and a shaman for the past year, itching the scalp under his greasy, wavy brown hair and squinting as he attempted to read the competition details on the back of his cereal box, 'Send in five coupons and win tickets to the concert of your choice'. Howard had never been a great lover of Extra Sugary Sugar Puffs, in fact they had a tendency to drive him slightly insane. After eating 4 boxes the massive amounts of E numbers had caused a sugar rush of humungous proportions, which had resulted in him ripping off his shirt and yelling jungle calls from the roof of the apartment building while Bollo played the Dijareedoo… quite skillfully actually. Howard needed no reassurance in the fact that the long periods of sugar craziness would be worth it when he was sat in a smoke filled bar listening to the soul filled notes evaporating from a glistening saxophone as the infamous 'Little Big Head Mcloony' (son of Big Head Mcloony, the largest head in Jazz-Fusion) mused on stage. It was a long shot, Howard had never had a lot of luck with these kinds of competitions though unfortunately he didn't seem to have many other options. After loosing all his money and his favorite shirt with the swirly patterns on it in a handstand competition with a back alley fox that smelt like marmite and had previously attempted to sell him a 'Rolex watch' that was actually a squirrel he'd run over on the way to a bar, Howard was skint. Howard Moon had posted the coupons in an envelope he'd covered in perfume, mainly due to the fact that he expected the kind of person judging the competition to be beefy, lonely and obsessed with board games, about two days ago. As a result of this he'd spent the entire week staring at the chameleon phone Vince had bought on a whim from a Rastafarian with giant eyebrows, and hanging up on anyone that called for his room mates, but unfortunately nature called.

"Right Vince, I'm waiting for a very, very important phone call, so if the phone rings, tell them I'll just be a minute, and don't use the phone! Think you can do that?" He shouted to Vince in the next room in the most patronizing voice he could muster, then shuffled off to the toilet, which was still close to radioactive after Bollo's Friday night curry.

Just then, the phone started to ring 'KamaKamaKamaChameleon, you come and gooo…'. Vince immediately ran into the living room, his hands still covered in glitter encrusted shaving foam. He glared at the bright, colorful dancing cameleon that was perched on the coffee table. If a random onlooker could see inside Vince Noir's head at that particular moment, they would have witnessed a colossal debate between Vince's ego and conscience. They also would have noticed that in comparison to the large psychedelic bulge that was the lanky child's ego, Vince's conscience possessed the size and strength of a newt. After about 5 seconds of careful deliberation a huge hypnotizing Cheshire cat grin formed across Vince's face as he thought to himself 'Ah stuff it, this tune is just too funky to ignore'. Seconds later, Howard had entered the room only to be greeted by a slightly exhausted, extremely glitzy Vince lying on the floor in his incredible glitter ball suit. By now Vince had snapped out of his sequin induced spasm and reacted with an expression that seemed to scream 'Oh shit! I'm dead'. Howard towered over his flat mate, his tiny shrew eyes piercing Vince with the most intimidating 'I'm going to kill you' look he was capable of, as the mental image of Vince being continuously run down with a steam roller flashed in and out of his mind, though strangely, Vince never seemed to come out any thinner.

"What does 'urgent phone call' mean to you?!", he said with a look that made it very clear that Howard Moon was not amused.

Howard reached out to grab the phone but his effort was quickly thwarted as Vince shot his long skinny arm towards the singing reptile, lifted it from its perch and gloated, "Quick like a tiger", to a Howard that had gone so red in the face it looked as though he might self-destruct any second.

"Howard moon? From the Extra Sugary Sugar Puffs competition? Yes, this is Howard Moon", Vince said into the phone while dodging angry attacks from his best friend, "Gig of my choice eh? Well I have been wanting to get tickets for Gary Numan. Alright, thanks. Wh-what do you mean what am I wearing…". Vince slammed the phone back onto the receiver with a slightly confused, but mostly ecstatic expression on his face, "Haha, me, you, Gary Numan. It's a date!", sang the lanky mischief maker as he danced back towards his room to finish shaving his new pet sheep, ignoring the demoralized mumblings from the lump on the floor that resembled Howard Moon, who was still shaking in disbelief.


End file.
